


Someone

by HalleRozally



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, But He Gets Better, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Scott is a Bad Friend, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalleRozally/pseuds/HalleRozally
Summary: The first season as it should have been written:Stiles is sure that it was not a wolf, but Scott is not in the mood to listen, even if he knew Stiles dad was in the middle of those forests looking for a dead body. Very close to where Scott had been bitten.Looking for a solution, Stiles ends up finding Derek and somehow they end up going together looking for an answer, for a crazy alpha and discovering each other's weaknesses along the way.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81





	1. Stiles

Stiles should say that he saw it coming because he really should have. He has always been a totally unlucky person and he should have thought that going to look for a dead body in the woods wasn't the best idea and that it would come back to him, beating his sorry ass. 

He should have guessed. 

Ok, maybe not about the whole werewolves thing, but he should have known it wouldn't end well. 

To say the truth, he should have known it wouldn't end well at the moment Scott's eyes were on the new girl. The way he stopped listening to his rumbles to stare at her should have been a hint that the day wouldn't end up nicely. 

Actually, it was a big awful and shitty day, what was he expecting? 

With all the Scott beaming at everything that Alisson did and ignoring him most of the time. Lydia not even looking at him as always, and Jackson being a Jackass and... And the "ands" kept going in a growing and sad list. 

He should have known better. 

But, there was no coming back now, not when they were already in the middle of the woods, hiding from his dad behind a fallen tree and hoping that Scott would be smart enough to hide too. 

He listened to the dogs, the police officers, the boots on the earth and on the leaves, his dad screaming for them, his father’s sixth sense seeming to know that he probably would be there. 

Well, John raised his kid, so he knew Stiles antics. 

When the cops went away, Stiles gets up, taking the cellphone off of his pocket and dialling Scott’s number, following the sound of his cellphone through the middle of the woods to find him, trying to be fast but not to stumble at the same time. The forest wasn't an unknown area to him, but it wasn't like he was an expert either, he was too uncoordinated to really explore the forest, too clumsy to spend more than two hours there without getting hurt.

However, even if he was not very good, Stiles had already spent much of his strenuous energy— thanks to the hyperactivity— in that forest, so it can be said that it was not his fault that he walked around without much fear, his ears alert only to a possible approach of his father and his policemen.

When he finally found Scott the boy was on the ground. Stiles arrived right at the moment that a big and horrendous looking creature was running in his direction, looming over him.

Stiles couldn't really understand what really happened next, he blamed the shock, but the last thing he knows is that Scott was bitten. 

By a fucking monster. 

There was no way that thing was a simple animal.

The werewolves... Stiles couldn't have known about the werewolves. Really. 

But yet, he should have known better. 

The next day was as much as unpleasant as the previous, Scott was in denial — he couldn't believe that it was a Werewolf, even if Stiles was 100% sure because, well, hello, it couldn't be ANYTHING else, aside from a demon but Stiles didn't want to entertain these thoughts, besides, was the only thing that fitted in his Google research results. 

Anyways, Stiles was planning to go back there. Suicidal? A little, but the sleepless night of researching folklore on Google was more than enough to know that he wouldn't rest with the idea that there was a werewolf in the woods, biting stupid teenagers and being a threat to his dad.

To his dad. 

Yeah, that was the red flag. 

Not just that, but if the truth was remotely similar to what he researched, Scott was close to being a threat too, even if he kept saying that Stiles was being stupid and that werewolves don’t exist.

Looking at Scott from the other side of the school cafeteria, while sitting alone at the table that they were used to seat while his friend was friendly talking with the new girl at the popular table with Lydia Martin and the Lacrosse guys, Stiles could agree with that, he was being stupid, but for another reason. 

He didn't know how it happened, but when the bell rang in a second Alisson was there, calling Scott to sit with her at the popular table after the two apparently started some kind of friendship when Scott lent her a pen, and then he was at the end of the hall with her, without even looking back.

It was SOO against bro code. 

It wouldn't be so bad if Scott wasn't like this for the rest of the day, talking to Allison in every class they shared and totally ignoring Stiles when he tried to talk to him. Or because he was too focused on Alisson, or because he didn't want to listen to Stiles’s theory about werewolves. 

When the last bell rang and Scott went running to the lacrosse practice, Stiles felt the urge to just turn around and leave the boy by himself, but he couldn't.

When he saw Allison sitting on the bench with Lidya looking at Scott with curious eyes he almost backed out, because he knew by the way that he looked her back that it would be inevitable. He kept saying to himself that he shouldn't be mad. Scott was having a crush on the new girl and was making progress. He should be happy for his friend. 

Easier said than done.

The lacrosse game was clearly the worst part of the day, because while Stiles couldn't run a meter without knocking up or hurting someone, Scott seemed to become a professional athlete, maybe even better than one.

On the previous day he was having problems to breathe. 

The thing is, the problem wasn't just the pang of jealousy that hit him by seeing his friend, because yes, he knew he was feeling jealous, but the realization that the boy right in front of him was a fucking werewolf, that would probably be one of the worst feelings of the day. 

He already knew that it was what was written on Google, but seeing it with his own eyes made it a lot more real than in his room in the middle of the night while he read Wikipedia while listening to some catchy pop song.

The scariest part? Just seeing the look on Scott's face was enough to know that the boy wasn't worried, that he knew something was different and wouldn't do shit about it and that only meant that they would end up in really bad shit. 

Jackson didn't seem happy either, but he never was, so it wasn't unexpected. 

He was finally going home, feeling humiliated after the lacrosse test and mad with Scott after he said he wouldn't go to his house since he would take Allison around town. 

While Scott explained himself in the parking lot about not being able to go, the girl smiled at him behind the boy's shoulders, seeming a little shy, but just as enthusiastic as Scott by the way she looked at him. 

She seemed nice, though. 

And it made Stiles feel guilt, asking himself if perhaps he wasn't being a bit melodramatic. Maybe just reacting badly seeing that the only friend he has was making other friends in just one day. 

But then he saw Scott's eyes, the way he looked at Allison and the way he looked back at Stiles and he knew that he was lost. 

He couldn't really know how much, but it was clear as the day.

And it really hurt. 

While driving home Stiles really thought about letting it be, Scott could and should deal with his own shit.

The thing is: Stiles knows he wouldn't, that look on his face while he was playing lacrosse, feeling good because of a power that he couldn't even comprehend, that look of pleasure was enough to know that Scott didn't understand the cons of his new power and was clearly not interested in finding out, so he just went straight home, put some food, water, and a knife in his backpack and got back in the jeep, going back to the forest.

He was nervous, of course, his knuckles turning white with the strength that he was using to hold the steering wheel, his heart beating fast in his ribcage.

He was so fucking scared.

But two thoughts kept him going: his dad was on that forest looking for a dead body that probably was murdered in a very disgusting way by that thing that was 99% a werewolf and his friend was probably going to become that thing in the next full moon, and Stiles didn't have a single clue of what to do about it. 

So he was going to look for answers, he was only hoping that the creature recognized him from the last night. If it let Scott leave, he hoped that it would do it with him too. Hoped, even if he knew that there was a really, REALLY, small chance that he wasn't going to dig his own grave.

He left a note for his dad anyway, he didn't want to die, by any means, even after everything, he still had his dad, his dad would never trade him, not anymore at least, not for drinks.

His dad loved him and he loved his dad. He has someone to go back to and intended to do it. 

However, if anything happened to him, he left a note.

Oh God, if he becomes a chewing toy for a werewolf it would kill his dad. 

Ok, trying not to become a chewing toy, noted. 

Stiles parked in the entrance of the preserve, in plain daylight. He knew his dad would know he was there in a few minutes, Bacon Hills citizens seemed to think that his dad would be pleased with them if they kept him informed of his misbehaviors. 

He could park it in a more hidden place, but if something went wrong he wanted to give his dad somewhere to start looking, a direction to go. 

These thoughts that something could go wrong, they were making his body run cold. He seriously reconsidered his decision while he tried to remake his path to where Scott was bitten, thinking again that maybe he should just pretend nothing happened.

But he knew it would be plain stupidity.

The werewolf would hurt someone and then Scott would do it too. Go back to the Jeep wasn't an option.

He understood that he knew nothing about werewolves too, so he was hoping that all the fear that he was feeling was unnecessary. 

When he arrived where Scott was bitten he didn't find anything, which wasn't a surprise, but brought a sense of relief anyway, followed by a dread sensation of not knowing where to find the beast. 

“What are you doing here?” A serious voice made Stiles jump in place, eyes darting around, looking for the owner of the voice. “This is private property.” 

A few feet away, where he was 100% sure that there wasn't anyone a few seconds ago, was a tall, dark and broody man, with beautiful blue eyes.

And somehow he was strangely familiar. 

“Ah…” Stiles started. “I am... Looking for something.”

“Well, go look for it somewhere else, you are trespassing. Now, go away.” He was looking very, very closely to murderous and that thought brought in an idea that made the situation a lot more scarier than it already was. 

Let's ignore the fact that Stiles was pointedly trying not to think about how hot the man was, considering that he was looking at Stiles like he was an annoying bug that he would kill in two seconds and because it was not the best time to have an identity crisis. Maybe never, if possible — though Stiles doubted, the guy was like, super hot and there is no way to, you know, unsee the blue eyes and the sharp jawline. So identity crisis it would be. 

And besides all that there was the fact that he could be looking at the werewolf that killed the girl in the forest and bit Scott. 

Not that he had any proof, but the situation was suspicious and Stiles was on the edge of hysteria. 

But it was impossible not to consider the idea, the guy being there by himself, looking like a serial killer with a leather jacket just a few meters away from where Scott was bit... Yeah, suspicious. 

“Ah... My bad, dude.” Stiles said when he remembered how to talk again, noticing that it wasn't the wisest choice of words when the scow in the dudes face deepened, but he kept going, his heart beating faster and faster, dread growing in his insides. “But...Y-yesterday my buddy, Scott, h-he was kinda, well, he was kinda bitten by a thing that clearly wasn't a mountain lion.”

Stiles opted to just talk the truth in a way that wouldn't reveal too much and studied the stranger expression, seeing how it grew annoyed while he was talking and then became more serious and angry. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, his leather jacket protesting against the stiff muscles while he started to walk in Stiles direction, a scowl on his face. 

Stiles was terrified to his core, but somehow he stayed in place while the other man approached. 

“Where was he bitten? How many hours ago did that happen?”

Than, Stiles felt relief, if he was asking then he wasn't the beast.

He could be lying, playing dumb, but it didn't make sense. Stiles was just a clumsy human, didn't make a good threat to a fucking werewolf. 

Which means that, the beast would let himself known if it wanted to communicate or Stiles would be dead.

“10? 12? It’s hard to tell.” Stiles admitted, feeling relieved that he wasn't the beast, but comprehending that he was probably something if he knew about what Stiles was talking bout. “B-but I think that he is already showing signs.” 

“What did he do?” The man growled, shoving Stiles against the tree, the man’s eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead and Stiles was thankful that he left that observation to himself.

His dad would be so mad. 

His hands were shaking while he tried to hold the man's hands, even if he knew it was useless, it was instinctual to try to take it away from his collar. 

The man was so strong that Stiles's feet weren't touching the ground anymore. The fear was rolling from him in waves. He was terrified, that's for sure, but well, he has just one job here, so he kept talking, even if he could feel a panic attack making his way into his lungs and mind. 

“Nothing. He did nothing!” Stiles said, desperate. Scott broke the bro code and Stiles knew that it would be a recurrent situation, but he still loved him. — Yet! — But he should be sincere, or there was no point in the Stiles dying situation. “He... He doesn't believe me, says that I am imagining things and that it was a mountain lion, I sincerely think that he is just trying to lie to himself because he can't bear the truth, but there is no way that thing was a mountain lion and the only thing that is left that could fit that thing was a werewolf or a demon, but I am too scared to entertain this possibility, so werewolf it is.”

The man growled louder, pressing stiles against the tree even more and his eyes became shining, electric, like the beast's eyes, but blue. 

It became even harder to breathe, the panic rising even more with the confirmation that yes, that man wasn't just human. 

“You said there were signs.” Pressed the man, seeming angrier, but there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. 

“He was like, super good in lacrosse today.” Stiles started, rumbling, the heart beating so fast that he asked himself that in instead of killed by a werewolf he would have a heart attack, a heart attack because the werewolf, but stills a heart attack. 

The man looked at him, unimpressed. 

“He has asthma,” Explained Stiles, breath coming with difficulty. “like… Like really bad asthma, h-he couldn't even… even walk in this forest without his inhaler... a-and now he is as good as the team captain, without even n-needing to catch a breath. I-I think he might... Might be hiding other things f-from me, b-because I kept saying he is a ... a werewolf.”

The man didn't even flinch at the last world, but the lines around his eyes became harder.  
“I-I think you should put me down.”

The man arched his eyebrows at him.  
And they were some pretty impressive eyebrows, Stiles might say.

“Because... I am so going to have a panic attack.”

His feet were back in the ground in one second and like magic, there was space for him to breath, the guy taking a step back while Stiles tried to use his tricks to avoid it from happening. But it was too late, he was too worked up and his mind was a mess. 

Of course, he was 100% sure that he was going to die, he received the confirmation through the stranger eyes that there was really a werewolf in the woods and his dad was there, the stranger by himself was a pretty scary dude, so it was comprehensive that he was panicking. 

But, as he said, he had one job.

“I know it sounds stupid... A-and I am probably going to faint in any second, ” He kept saying, using the tree behind him as support. “but my dad is the sheriff and he is in those forests, looking for the dead body, ” the words started to go out in a rush while Stiles tried to explain himself before he could finally faint. “ which means that he is in imminent danger and I couldn't rest with these thoughts in my mind and if what I researched is true then Scott will be a threat to other people and it can't happen so I came here looking for that thing, but I found you and you are one of them, so if you are going to kill me please help Scott to not hurt anyone and doesn't let that thing go near my dad.”

And then Stiles fainted. 

He didn’t even get to see the extremely confused expression in the man’s face. 

When Stiles woke up his senses were filled with the smell of smoke and burned wood. When he opened his eyes, the only thing that he could see was a burnt ceiling blackened by the burning of flames that had been extinguished a long time ago. 

Then, as if with a snap of fingers, Stiles remembered why the man in the forest was so familiar. He was Derek Hale, one of the only survivors of a fire that killed nearly his entire family.

He locked his thoughts somewhere in his head to revisit later on, not knowing where he was and why he was still alive were more concerning things to think about right now. Not that he was complaining about the "still alive" fact, actually he was really happy about that, confused, but happy. 

He tried to sit on the wooden floor that he was lying, feeling extremely tired after his first panic attacks in years, and surely wasn’t completely calm yet, feeling terrified, not knowing where he was, the only thing that he could see being burned wood.

Burned wood...

Ok, he might have an idea. 

Carefully, he got up and went towards the door, feeling frightened but assuming that if Derek wanted him dead, he would not be here standing right now. But it didn’t stop his heart from pounding like crazy when he went down stairs, each step cracking under his feet.

At the place Stiles assumed that was the living room before the fire had happened he entered a door on the left.

If he was right, and this house was the Hale house, that would explain the gigantic sized rooms and the absurd amount of doors. 

As far as he remembered, they were a really big family. It was kinda strange actually, strange in a way that had people talking about them, about how they all had houses in the city but chose to spend most of their time at the hidden house in the woods, how each one of them had an absurd number of kids and even like that the kids were always homeschooled until they could enter high school and how Talia was powerful, as in a really rich woman kinda way. 

Stiles never thought much about it until now, but now he could remember how the pre-school teachers would gossip about how Talia controlled her husband, about how she was the one that worked and he was the housekeeper and didn’t trust the Beacon Hill's pre-school system since she didn’t let her children go to school. 

Jealousy always getting the worst of people.

Stiles entered the room, finding Derek Hale in the middle, arms crossed and a scow in his face. 

“Uh... Hi?”

The scow deepened.

“Ok, sourwolf, I see you are not the communicative type,” Now a grow . “but if I am alive, it means that you don’t want to kill me, I am counting on it.”

“I won't kill you,” Answered finally Derek “but the Alpha might do it if you keep walking through the forest like that.”

“Alpha?”

Derek sighed, the scow deepened even more and Stiles asked himself how that was possible. There might be a limit of how much a person can look angry. And murderous. Angry and murderous.

“So you don’t really know much” Started him. “look, usually it is not the way that I would work, but you said you are the sheriff's kid?”

Stiles gulped, feeling nervous and stupid, now realizing that he had put a target in his dad's back.

“Calm yourself down, if I wanted to hurt your dad I would just follow your smell and you would be dead by now.”

“Oh, so reassuring.” If Derek could murder with his eyes, Stiles would really be dead by now. The information that he could track someone by scent was accepted, but he just let it on the sidelines for now, choosing to think about it later, in a place where he could freak out alone.

“Look, let's make it simple: you said you want me to help your friend and that you are worried about your dad, I can help your friend and if you help me, maybe I can stop the alpha.” His eyes were hard, his muscles were tense and Stiles knew that he didn’t have much of a choice anyway.

“Ok, ok” Stiles said, trying not to let his sarcastic personality show too much, afraid that he would annoy Derek so much he would leave. “First things first, what is an Alpha? Are you really a werewolf?” Another grow. “Ok, ok, I know you are, I am just trying to be sure.”

“An Alpha is a label, look, wolves walk in packs, werewolves too. The Alpha is the leader of the pack.” He seemed to tense each time a word came out of his mouth, as if the thought of sharing information hurt.

“Which means he is the strongest.” Stiles assumed.

“It depends.”

Stiles waited, but nothing came.

“Depends on what?”

Derek just looked at Stiles like he really wanted to kill him, what wasn't a surprise, since it was the only way he seemed to look at stiles.

“Hey man, I know I am just a skinny human, I get that, but my friend was bitten and my dad is there, so, please... Just…”

Derek sighed one more time.

“If it has a pack or not. A werewolf with a pack is stronger, faster, the bigger the pack, stronger is the Alpha and the betas, so you could say that one beta in a really large pack could win a lone Alpha, for example, but it is really a variable and is hard to measure.” A pause “But most of the times, yeah, an Alpha is stronger”

Stiles gave time for the information to sink in for a few minutes.

“So...That is the reason...That Scott was bitten,” Assumed once more. “he wants to get a bigger pack.”

“Yes and no,” His expression became darker. “usually alphas increase the packs with people that desire the bite, or other werewolves, lone wolves. As far as I can assume, by his scent and his behavior, he is mad, crazy, and desperate... He is a new alpha, the urge to get a bigger pack are big enough for him to bite the first stupid person that he saw.”

Stiles couldn't let slide the way Derek's face darkened talking about the creature being a new alpha.

“How do you know it is a new alpha? How do you know it isn’t just crazy?”

Derek stared at him for a few seconds.

“Because he stole my sister's power to become one.”

And then everything fell into place, the realization hitting him hard and making him feel guilty about even bothering to annoy the guy about his own problems.

“Oh God, the dead body in the woods is Laura Hale.”

Derek winced at the statement and Stiles winced too, seeing for the first time something besides murdering intent pass through Derek's eyes.

“I am sorry, I have no filter at all. Really, I am always getting in bad shit because of it, but most of the time the words are just there and I can’t stop rumbling and getting everyone mad, and my Dad usually is the one that takes the blame, which makes no sense at all, but…”

“I get it.” Derek growled and Stiles snapped his mouth shut for a few seconds of embarrassed silence, until Stiles broke it again, his ADHD getting the best of him.

“Look, I really don't want to be the insensible guy right now, okay, I know that you are mad and grieving,” Stiles started again. “but I need you to tell me everything you can and how I am supposed to help you.”

Derek nods, but his arms seem to tighten harder against his own body.

“Let’s start with how it stole your sister's power, ok?”

And then, Derek looked right at him, his eyes glowing blue in a supernatural way and he started to talk.

........................................................................................................

When Derek finished he was starting to understand how this whole alpha thing worked, and why Derek's was on the town.

It was a sad conversation, Stiles could sense the man's grief, but knew that they needed to deal with this situation. It was really sad to not have peace to grief your sister's death, but he didn't have the choice, they needed to find the Alpha. And try to not incriminate Derek on the way, because it was really easy for it to go in that way, he being the only Hale alive and all that.

Derek, in the end, offered his training ability and asked for all the information Stiles could get as the sheriff’s kid and then they parted ways.

Stiles would have to discover the name of a guy who used to work for Derek's family, Derek would have to go and talk to Scott until he believed he was a werewolf.

It wouldn't be easy, but they would manage.

Stiles was trying very hard not to keep thinking about the whole situation, it was too sad and his thoughts kept going back to his mom, thinking about what he would do if it was his mother in the place of Laura.

When Stiles arrived home, his dad was there, looking as tired as Stiles felt after more than 24 hours without sleep, hovering above files and files of paperwork he knew his dad didn’t want him to see.

“Hi daddy-o.” Greeted Stiles, knowing that his face was awful, so he needed to try to look at least a little animated or he would draw unrequited attention.

“Hi,” He was caught in the middle of the phrase, giving Stiles’s face a good and analytic stare. “are you ok?”

Stiles knew better than just to blatantly lie to his dad, he would probably know Stiles was lying. But he knew he couldn't tell the truth either, so he needed to say something that wasn't a lie, but wasn't the truth either. His dad would be suspicious, but wouldn't press.

“It’s Scott,” Answered Stiles, getting closer after throwing his bag on the couch. “he is head over heels over the new girl and apparently forgot about our friendship. “he didn't need to fake the bitterness, he was all for talking shit about Scott right now.”

“Scott? Your best friend in the last, what, 10 years? With the pup eyes?” His dad asked, totally dismissing him.

“Yes dad, the thing is, his pup eyes are totally on the Argent girl. He completely ignored me at lunch today, he chose to sit with the new girl in the popular table with Lydia and the lacrosse team.” He knew he sounded jealous, and he knew that he was too, what was good, so his dad would believe his behavior was because of it. Of course he was a little ashamed about it, he didn't want his dad thinking that he was the kind of friend that couldn't see his friends being happy, but he needed an excuse, so he found one that was, you know, actually true.

“Lydia Martin, the girl that you are in love with... And he ... didn’t ask for you to sit with him?” His dad was starting to take his side, seeing the signs of betrayal.

“No, he didn't even spare a glance at me, it was awful, I had to have lunch alone... It was like everybody was staring. I knew they weren't, but you know how anxiety works.”

His dad gave him a sympathetic look.

“And, you know ” Stiles kept going, knowing that he needed to relieve some tension, this stuff about werewolves and dead sisters were draining him, making him feel more depressed than usual, and he couldn't even think about how Derek was doing, so he needed to let something else out, anything, even if it was his trivial, nonexistent but kinda still there, so the fight with Scott it is. “we didn't actually fight, I think he didn't even notice that I am mad at him and I think I don't want him to... I always thought we would be those kinds of friends that would never split up or would let a girl be in our way, and then a girl appears and he is ignoring me, and I know is not on purpose and I know that we won't quit being friends, it only means that we aren't the kind of friends that I thought we were. And that he probably will be so interested in hurrying behind Allison that he will be coming home way less, a lot less sleepovers, a lot less movie nights.”

“Son ” Started Sheriff, after his speech, the eyes soft and stern at the same time, like they were divided between comforting Stiles or giving him a lecture. “are you sure you are not overreacting? It’s just the first day.”

“Exactly, it’s just the first day and he almost forgot my existence... And you really had to see the way he looked at her, dad it was disgusting. Like, all heart eyes and all that.”

John sighed, knowing that he would have to wait and see.

“Now, ” Stiles started, feeling at least a little better after talking to his dad. “what do you have here?”

His dad just snorted and closed the files before Stiles could get a good look at them.

“Never hurt to try.” Said Stiles, giving up and going to make dinner, a healthy dinner.

Sheriff stayed in silence for a while, thinking. Stiles let him be.

For a few minutes, while the potatoes were baking and everything else was ready, Stiles didn't have anything to dig his thoughts into, so just to not die of boredom, he pried:

“So, did you find who is the dead body?” Stiles asked, already knowing the answer and not believing that his dad would say anything, but maybe because he was feeling really bad for Stiles, he actually answered.

“This conversation doesn't leave this room, but, yeah, it’s Laura Hale. We are trying to contact her brother, Derek, in NY, but until now we didn't have any response. Her job declared her missing.”

Oh, shit. He needed to talk with Derek.

“Wow, really?” Asked Stiles, trying to look surprised. “Like... the Hales from the Hale house? The one that was burned?”

“Yeah... It’s sad, isn't it? All those people, kids, teenagers, there was a pregnant woman there, Jesus. I get sick just thinking about it.”

Stiles stomach sank. He was trying very hard not to think about Laura, thinking about how recent the situation was and how that man was grieving, the situation reminding him so much of his mom's passing. But now that his dad was talking he couldn't not let his thoughts drift to the fire, understanding why Derek's expression seemed to be 100% plastered in a scow and incapable to understand how he must be feeling.

It wasn't something that you learn to live with. Everybody dies, Stiles knows, he learned really young. His mom was young. 

But, even if it hurts like a bitch, he might say. You have to keep going, you need to find a reason to. Even if it was to take care of your drunk father.

It’s not easy, not really, but it is manageable somehow.

The thing is, Stiles had had his time with his mom, he said goodbye and even if it wasn’t the most peaceful death, with all the thinking her own son was a monster and all that, she didn't suffer, not more than necessary.

It was hard, but he could get that it was a disease, it was a painful process and it broke their family, like forever, and it would never be whole again, but they could manage.

But, stopping to think about Derek's situation, well, it made Stiles feel sick too.

His whole family, not only his mom, but everyone.

Stiles never had a big family, his parents didn't have sisters or brothers, and his grandmothers and grandfathers, well, he never had the pleasure to meet them. So Stiles knew he wouldn't understand what Derek was feeling. He’s not sure if he wants to understand it at all.

But he knows it must be awful, way worse than his friend betrayal. Actually his "nonexistent but still there" fight with Scott seemed like a really silly thing and he was feeling guilty for caring about something so small and stupid.

“Do you think” Stiles started again, vocalizing a thought that he was having since his talk with Derek. “ that it is related to the fire?”

“The case of the fire was closed with the verdict of accidental fire.”

Stiles didn't let the hint slip, frowning as he set dinner on the table. His father hadn't said no.

And, in his father's language, it means something. But Stiles knew better than to push, so he tried to change the subject.

“You said that her job gave her as missing?”

“Yeah, they said that she just stopped going and it was very strange since she hadn't missed a single day since she started working there.”

“She didn't talk with anyone about leaving?” Stiles said. “A friend? Because she needed to get in Beacon Hills before she died. Right? She must have talked to someone.”

His dad gave him a stern look, not liking his interest in the story, but probably still feeling bad about Scott. Feeling bad about not having time enough to really be in Stiles life, to help him through the teenager's problems.

“No, she didn't contact anyone, maybe her brother, but you know we didn't find him yet. They said that she was amicable, not exactly friendly, but polite, in a way that people notice when she goes missing, they call the police, and that's it.”

Stiles decided not to press his dad more than this and changed the subject, talking about how Harris was an asshole and Jackson a jackass. Nothing new, but it's worth complaining.

His dad clearly thought better of Stiles then he should, believing his son wouldn't disobey his clear desire to stay away from the case or because he thought Stiles had lost his interest. Either way, he was very wrong. When he went upstairs to take a shower he left his files on the table and Stiles had to wait until he could listen to the water running to secure himself that it wasn't a prank.

He tried to be as fast as possible and still let the files looking untouched, taking pictures of everything and trying very hard not to cringe with the photos. He would have nightmares. Oh, God.

When his dad finished his shower he was already in his bed, trying to concentrate on his already growing pile of homework — and it was just the first day!— his mind drifting into thinking about how exhausted he was after his hours and hours without sleep and how he needed to find that man that Derek was looking for.

When he finally finished his homework it was unreadable, but he finished it, and that was the part that truly matters. 

He dreamed of dead bodies and red eyes. 

Can’t say that he wasn't expecting it, so in the morning he just pretended that his body wasn't shivering and that dread wasn't growing in his insides. 

At last he didn't dream about his mom, he should reward himself just because of it. Maybe curly fries and coffee. 

His dad was still sleeping when he left for school with a cup of coffee in his hands, not having stomach for anything else. 

In school Scott greeted him with enthusiasm, but at the same time it was easy to see that he was distracted, when the topic of his conversation became Allison right away Stiles understood why he was so happy. 

He honestly didn't listen to half of it, but tried to at last understand what he was talking about.

He noted then, that he was happy for him, he was just sad that Scott didn't value him like he valued a girl that he had met 2 days prior, but he was happy for him. 

“So ” Scott was saying. “double date, me Allison, you and Lydia.”

It got Stiles on his track for 2 seconds before he sighed. 

“Not happening.” He answered, opening his locker. 

“Wait, what? Why?” The confused expression of Scott would be cute if it wasn't hilarious. 

“Scott, buddy, it’s not because you became a super lacrosse player that I will become popular, I am your friend, not you.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

Lost puppy eyes... It would kill Stiles someday, he was 100% sure. 

“Look, you got the new girl, she is hot, is a friend of the popular kids and everybody knows that she is your future girlfriend, with put you in the popular kid's table AND, besides that now you are like, a super lacrosse player and all that. Me? I am just Stiles, the strange kid with ADHD. Lydia won't glance at me twice, and even if she would, she has a boyfriend, blond, rich, hot and stupid boyfriend, and captain of the lacrosse team. So, Scott, get over it, not gonna happen.”

Scott looked completely lost. Stiles just patted him on the shoulder and started to walk to his first class. 

“Wait, ” Scott started again, following him. Yeap, lost puppy look. “since when? Like, you were talking about Lydia last week”

Stiles sighed.

“Scott, do you ever stop to think about how I stopped trying to approach her a long time ago? Did you stop to think that the only thing I do is talk about her and not with her? Do you know why? Because I don't stand a chance. I can talk about her for hours because she is perfect, a queen that needs to be talked about. It is the kind of girl that she is. But she will never be the kind of girl that would be with me, she is like, high standard and I am the cheap one. Do you get it?” It hurt a little, to talk about how he would never be good enough to the girl of his dreams, how she would always be the perfect and beautiful Lydia Martin and he would always be a pária. It hurts to vocalize his feelings, but if he didn't do it, Scott would be the one hurting him, even if the intentions were good.

He needed to understand that it wasn't because Lydia accepted his werewolf ass in her little group that she would accept Stiles. Scott had a hot girlfriend— not yet, but probably soon, by the way things were going — and super lacrosse powers, Stiles had nothing. 

Any attempt at approaching Lydia would end up in humiliation, pain and maybe a black eye from Jackson. His social life was already bad, he didn't need it to get worse. 

Scott was having a hard time to assimilate the speech, but didn't press.  
At lunchtime Scott went away with Allison again and Stiles noted that he would need to make friends, just for the safety of not sitting alone because it was just sad. 

Stiles obviously wasn't welcomed in every place, he had a bit of a reputation. So he scanned the school cafeteria with searching eyes, looking to someone that was just as unpopular as him and that wouldn't try to kill him if he tried to approach. 

He spotted a tall figure sitting alone, dark skin and broad shoulders.  
Stiles thought that his name was Boyd, he wasn't so sure, but he decided to try anyway.

He looked like he could kill Stiles with his bare hands, big guy and all that. But it was better than sitting alone. 

“Hi, ” Stiles said, sitting in front of the guy, that only arched his eyebrows to him. “can I sit here?”

“You are already sitting.”

Ouch.

But Stillinsk men were better than that.

“Do you want me to go away?” 

He didn't say anything else and both of them ate quietly. Stiles played with his food to say the truth. Not feeling in the vibes of the mass of unidentifiable things that they gave him claiming it was food. 

When lunch was done and the class too, Stiles and Scott went to the locker room together, but Scott didn't say anything about Stiles lunching with Boyd, so Stiles figured he didn't even notice. 

Stiles wasn't in the mood of playing lacrosse, not at all, not after Scott impressed everyone with his abilities. It was bad before, the humiliation, now it just seemed worse, but Derek had asked Stiles to keep an eye at Scott during practice.

Like if he could sense his thoughts, his phone beeped. 

A message from Derek. They had changed numbers yesterday. 

"Keep an eye on him." was the message.

"If you see that he is losing control, try to call him, pull to his human side, anchor him.” 

“If you see that you lost him and he isn’t listening, don't get too close. He will hurt you.”

“I will be around, hold him there, after practice I will talk to him"

Stiles answered with a thumbs-up emoji and finished dressing. Scott, now without the presence of Alisson, was curious about who he was talking to. 

Stiles just shrugged, pretending it was nothing. 

Then Scott decided that there, in the middle of a bunch of teenage boys, it was a great idea to talk about his newfound symptoms. 

“Dude, do you remember that conversation that we were having yesterday, ” It didn't seem yesterday, it looked like it was days ago. “and I am sorry that I totally dismissed you, but now I am having...”

Stiles stopped him in his tracks, feeling the urge to groan, but holding still.  
“I know, I know.” Stiles said, quietly, trying to not bring attention. “we will talk about it, after the practice, you will need to wait.”

Scott seemed confused, worried, but nodded, which brought a sigh of relief from Stiles, since he was getting ready to fight with Scott, worrying that he wouldn't want to stay to listen. 

They finished changing and went outside. 

The practice was worse than he thought it would be. 

First because Stiles was obviously bad at it, falling and hurting himself when there wasn't a reason to. 

Second because Scott was constantly wolfing out without noticing. 

It was a really, really, really shitty day, again. 

There was golden eyes, fangs, and super strength. 

Stiles had to keep talking him out of it all the time, but Jackson wasn't helping with that big mouth of his until Scott snapped, advancing towards the blond with shining eyes.

Stiles didn't really have a choice besides launch himself towards Scott, which hurt a lot, in a way that made him ask himself if he didn't have a dislocated shoulder or a broken rib. 

He held Scott, thought. 

Of course that if the boy really wanted he could easily have passed through him, but having his childhood friend trying to hold him must have had something snapping inside his brain. 

To sum up: It was a humiliating and hurtful practice. 

Stiles took his shower with calm, the other dudes were a bunch of douchebags, but didn't dare to bully him in the showers, it would cross a line that they didn't want to. Feeling the pain in his chest and shoulder, besides his other bruises thanks to Jackson and his friends, Stiles took his time, knowing that he would need the locker rooms empty anyways.

When he finished, almost everyone had gone, it was just him and Scott, that looked at Stiles with sorry eyes.

Stiles knew better than just to succumb, or Scott would never learn his lessons. 

He started to dress while lecturing Scott. 

“You know, I told you so.” He said, dressing his boxers, he and Scott and their endless sleepovers surpassed years ago the shame of getting naked in front of each other. 

“I know you said, but it seemed absurd.” What seemed absurd was Scott using absurd instead of his limited vocabulary that would consist of crazy and nuts until a week ago, but Stiles didn't say that.

“And don't you think I know that?” He was putting his pants on, angrily. “You saw it with your own eyes, Scott. You know that, and you should know to trust me. I am your best friend.”

“To trust you? You were the one who took me to the woods in the first place!” 

They stared at each other for a while, blinking while Stiles registered the pain in his chest at the same time that Scott seemed to realize what he had said. 

“H-Hey, I didn't- ” Scott was cut in the middle of the phrase when Derek opened the door. 

Stiles just finished dressing his shirt and left, ignoring Scotts protests.

He stopped to nod at Derek at least, mumbling an ashamed "thank you", knowing he could listen. 

He cried all the way back to his house, the pain in his shoulder and chest seeming to get worse with the harshness of his breath in the middle of his outburst of tears.

For a moment he thought he would have a panic attack, but he concentrated on putting it a bay for the moment. He wasn't having a panic attack because of it, not at all. This situation didn't deserve so much suffering. 

When he arrived home his dad wasn't there, but he tried to, at least recompose himself before getting in the house. 

It wasn't easy, but knowing that he had more important things to do helped.

So he went upstairs, having decided that he would do his homework and then focus on his research, trusting that Derek would explain to Scott what he needed to and that his friend would listen. 

A few minutes later, while he was finishing his work — they were in much better state than the ones from yesterday — Derek texted, saying that Scott had said yes, accepting Derek to train him, but that he seemed suspicious and that they — Stiles and Derek— would need to talk. 

Of course the boy felt a little nervous about it, but he figured that if Derek meant any harm, he would already have done it. 

So he focuses again in finishing his homework and answers Derek, agreeing to meet tomorrow and start his research. 

The thing is, Derek was lucky that Stiles was the law-breaker sheriff's son, because he easily hacked his dad system. 

With ease he went through the names, looking for someone that wasn't blood-related to the Hales, but had helped Laura through the funeral process somehow. 

It was actually easy, seeing that on the files, besides 3 Hale names, there was just one name. That person had recognized a few of the bodies — not everyone was in a state where recognition was possible, some of the bodies weren't even found, burned into ashes — and also handled a few of the documentation, even if Stiles couldn't understand how it was legal, since Laura was already of age and all the documentation should have been handled by her. 

The strangest part of the situation? Stiles had already met the guy.


	2. Life

Stiles had a sleep full of nightmares after he went through all the photos that he had taken of his dad's files. All he could see was red eyes, blood and sometimes Scott's face saying it was all his fault.

He woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep, and since he didn't have Scott to call he did a thing that he had never done in his life: he anticipated his homework.

Of course it wasn't just because he was bored, he wanted to get it done as fast as possible so he could help Scott and Derek. He was hurt? Yes, but Scott was his bro and would always be.

So he finished the essay that was for next week and read the chapter that he was asked for from a boring book that he didn't care to even remember the name. After that, he just went to look after Deaton’s name again, frowning at the screen one more time. It just didn't make any sense.

He then entered the city hall site and some forums, entered his dad's system again and printed everything suspicious and put it in his bag.

His shoulder and ribs were still hurting and started to look all blue and yellow, but besides that, the rest of his body was just sore, a little blue and yellow in some spots, but nothing that he wasn't used to. There was a reason that he wasn't good at lacrosse, besides of course, of his clumsy self: Stiles was weak, weak and a nerd, which means that the lacrosse players kind of made him their punching bag. Scott was bullied, sure, but it was more like he was shoved to the sides a little. They couldn't bite an asthmatic kid, they knew better than to cross that line.

Hurting a sick kid was kind of social suicide. Roughing up a healthy kid, cool, "the guy is a nerd anyway", hurt an asthmatic kid," not cool dude, why don't you go after someone your size?"

So Scott never really understood why Stiles wasn't enthusiastic about lacrosse. He was in the beginning, of course, dreaming that his fumbling demeanor would grow into an athlete somehow, but he knew after the first week that it just wouldn't happen.

He would always be a benchwarmer and the punch bag.

Scott always thought that they would do it thought, talking about epic entrances in the first line and all that.

Stiles just let him be, maybe he shouldn't have, maybe he should just leave, so he wouldn't have to be hurt because of a stupid game.

When it was a reasonable hour to pretend that he had woken up he cleaned himself and went downstairs, eating some eggs and toast, even if he wasn't feeling hungry yet, his appetite vanished every time he remembered red eyes or a body cut in half.

It was his way to deal with trauma, Stiles new. He went through it once, when his mom died. It was a really hard time, but he could handle it, first because he needed to cook for his dad, second because he couldn't dare to be sick. So he ate even when he didn't want to.

He couldn't even remember nausea when he forced himself to eat, the urge to vomit. Awful days.

He finished his breakfast quickly, trying not to think about things like that or about the food at all, just shoving it inside his mouth. He was not feeling as bad as yesterday and the toast tasted fine, so he figured that he would work through this situation in no time. 

His dad was going down the stairs when he was almost done rinsing the dishes, a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee waiting for him, no syrup thought.

“Already up?” His dad asked, after all, Stiles wasn't a morning person.

“Bad dream.” He shrugged.

His dad looked at him for a few seconds but decided not to press.

In the end, Stiles hugged his dad, asked him to stay away from the bacon and drove to school.

His bruises were annoying, but he could manage just fine.

At school Stiles avoided Scott, pretending not to see the remorseful eyes of his friend. He knew that Scott wanted to apologize, but he knew that it wasn't for thinking that the situation was Stiles fault but for saying it out loud.

So he would avoid him for now. He would deal with it, eventually, pretend it never happened, but their friendship would never be the same.

Though he must be feeling remorseful because he tried to approach Stiles at lunch, but Stiles just pushed him in Allison's direction and went to sit with Boyd again, that looked at him with inquisitive eyes.

“You and Mcall are not friends anymore?”

Stiles put almost a whole sandwich in his mouth before responding, his eyes squeezing a little in Boyd direction, but then assuming that, since he kinda forced himself in his table, he should at least give him an explanation.

“Kinda. He traded me for Allison since she arrived, but we didn't fight until yesterday.”

Boyd didn't say anything else and Stiles just kept eating.

It was less strange than Stiles thought it would be sitting with Boyd, the quiet guy.

Stiles always had the reputation of being annoying thanks to his talkative nature, but now his mind was so full of werewolves and Scott that he couldn't bother with communication, his mind running practically non-stop. He probably needed to talk it out, but it wasn't like he could do it at all with the topic being supernatural creatures and murders and all that.

The rest of his day went peacefully, until practice.

Then it was all awful again, his luck was that Scott was trying hard to catch his attention and talk with him, which means that he didn't wolf out so much.

When the practice ended he was all blue and yellow and feeling tired as hell, so he just took a quick shower still feeling exhausted, emotionally and physically.

Honestly, Stiles couldn't understand how Scott didn't care about the situation, hadn't he even stopped to think they had a crazy werewolf running around town? Probably not.

He was too dazed with Allison to realize that if it weren't for him, he would have been someone else, maybe one of his father's cops, maybe a drifter.

Maybe he was right to blame Stiles for being a werewolf, but he was totally ignoring the fact that with or without Stiles the alpha would always be there. Waiting for some other idiot to dig his teeth in.

When Stiles arrived in the forest he decided to stop the car in a more hidden place and closer to the house. He wondered for a moment how far the werewolf could hear, if it was possible to hear him coming.

Although curious, this was not the time to ask questions, especially because Stiles had a slight impression that Derek would not answer anyway.

Cautiously, he climbed the porch steps, making a deliberate noise for his arrival to be announced. He didn't believe Derek was going to kill him, but he didn't trust him that much either, mainly because of his behavior, meaning that... Well, he wasn't the nicest person in the world. And if Stiles was honest with himself, well, the dude was pretty scary.

Derek was waiting for him, standing at the center of the kitchen with his arms crossed and an expression of someone who might kill at any moment. And who would die would be Stiles.

"Go away." Was the first thing Derek said, but it sounded more like a growl.

“Easy there, buddy,” Stiles said, raising both hands as a peace sign. “I just came to fulfill my part of the deal.”

This caught his attention, which relaxed his posture a little, Stiles saw it as a signal to approach while stirring his bag, taking the documents and handing it to Derek.

"Dr. Alan Deaton. He was the person who identified the bodies and took care of the funeral, he was the only person outside your family who appeared in the papers," said Stiles, taking a deep breath before saying the next part as Derek glanced at them. "But there's a strange thing, I don't know if you should really worry about that, but he requested the city, claiming ownership of the Hale lands. He was denied, obviously, but it is registered anyway." "Coincidentally, I kind of know the guy"

Derek glared at him, brows furrowed in suspicion.

"He's Scott's boss, a veterinarian. He always gave me the creeps, but I never imagined he had anything to do with anything supernatural. But I should have wondered, really should, the animals like him a lot, that's not natural. Even my neighbor's cat. That thing attacked me once but around him he's all sweet and... I'm shutting up now."

Derek sighed and looked at Stiles as if he were an annoying bug, or maybe the dirt on the sole of his shoe. Never mind, the thing was, it wasn't a cool look.

"Where does he work?"

"Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, the only veterinary clinic in town," Stiles replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "and I know you must have your way of sorting things out, but can I ask you a question?" Stiles didn't expect him to answer "How did you work things out with Scott? Because I'm pretty sure Friday night is a full moon and he was talking about going to a party with his new quasi-girlfriend. A house, full of teens, drunk, at the full moon "

"What?!" He looked as incredulous as Stiles when he read this in the message Scott sent, saying that Lydia had let him take a friend to her party.

"I'll assume your tone of disbelief means you explained to him what could happen. Okay, now I'm sure Scott is blind and deaf, I had it before, but you confirmed it to me." Stiles said, sighing and passing the hands in hair nervously before looking back at Derek "you will need to help me with this, he can't hurt anyone"

"I know," Derek replied, looking at Stiles as if he were stupid. "Do you think I don't know that? This isn't just about morals or not. When you're a werewolf you have to be careful. If you get too much attention you end up dead."

Clearly, there was more behind that statement, but Stiles knew he shouldn't press, not now.

"Okay, I'm just warning you, because I can't do much about it," he remembered how Scott had hurt him just by throwing himself at him. The pain, when distracted as it was a few seconds ago, was not so uncomfortable, just a pang in the back of his thoughts. But whenever he stopped to remember the incident the pain became more annoying.  
Derek suddenly wrinkled his nose and stared at Stiles with an unreadable expression.

"He hurt you." It was not a question but a statement.

"It was that or he was going to hurt Jackson, which was going to be a lot worse" Derek sighed in resignation before continuing.

"We'll fix this on Friday, but I'll need your help since you'll be at the party anyway."

"I'm not going to the party"

Derek looked at him questioningly, his perfectly arched eyebrow showing his doubtful air.

"Look, he and I are fighting, okay? I'm not going to the party, so we need to find a way to handle the situation."

Stiles knew the blow would come even before Derek moved, almost as if he could feel the werewolf's irritation.

Struck against the wall and pressed against her by Derek's big hands and iron grip, Stiles rethought his life choices.

"This isn't a fucking game. Scott can hurt someone, he can kill someone or he can be killed by someone. You don't want to be his friend, okay, but you need to get in that party and help me get him out from there before he does some shit he'll regret later."

"Ok, ok, back of, back of, I'm going to the fucking party"

Derek grinned, releasing him soon after.

Stiles took a deep breath, trying to stabilize his heart.

"Ok, now that it's settled," Stiles began, deciding to keep the scene that had just happened in a dark part of his brain dealing with the trauma. "We need to go see Dr. Deaton."

"We?"

Stiles sighed once again, not believing what he was hearing.

"Yeah, us! Derek, us! I know life sucks for you, believe me, I know! But it's my dad who's in this forest and it's my fucking best friend who was turned into a werewolf and like you said he can kill or be killed so yeah I have a right to know what's going on and I'm also the only person at the moment who can help you, I know you are hurting and all you wanted most now was have your mourning respected and I understand. But life is not fair and if there's anyone who can help you find that bastard, that's me, the sheriff's law-breaking son, who happens to know how to get inside the system from the police. So yes, you will go with me."

Derek, unlike he had imagined, did not attack Stiles again after hearing his speech, only sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously before looking at Stiles with an extremely tired look.

It was as if Stiles had seen him for the first time. The way his shoulders were slumped or he wore the same clothes as yesterday had indicated that he must not be having the best days of his life.

Now that Stiles was thinking about it, he wondered if he'd had a chance to take a hot shower recently. He knew he was sleeping in the ruins of the house, and Stiles doubted there was running water.

"Ok," Derek began. "I understand your point. But you have to understand that you're getting in where you shouldn't."

"I understand your point too, but I won't change my mind"

They stare at each other for a few seconds until Derek sighed in defeat.

"So let's go" was the only thing he said before taking the keys from the camaro.

Derek obviously growled the entire way every time Stiles did anything other than breathing or movements, but at least Stiles got a lift from the camaro.

Arriving at the clinic, Scott's bike was there indicating his presence, although Stiles suspected Derek could hear the teenager from a very far away.

When they entered the clinic Derek did not advance as an animal as Stiles thought he would, but just stopped at the reception, waiting for the doctor to appear, the expression of who was ready to kill the man as soon as he showed his face. Stiles thanked God that he had no pet owner at the front desk, for he was sure that within 2 minutes the gossip that Stiles Stilinski was walking with a tall, murderous-looking man and over the age of twenty would travel fast into father's ears.

The conversation with Dr. Deaton was kind of weird, Stiles not really understanding what exactly the guy was, Derek has just said that he worked in the old days for the Hales. and Scott just stared, worried about what was going on in the room, not understanding why Stiles was with Derek.

Stiles knew he would have to face Scott soon, especially to put in his head that he couldn't go around, wolfing out, and not think about the consequences. But this was not the time, Alpha was priority number one, he would deal with Scott later.

The conversation, however, brought more questions than answers, but it was new information anyway.

Apparently, Laura came to town after suspicious messages had been sent to her cell phone.

As Stiles stared at the picture of the dead deer with the symbol embedded in his skin, he wondered if his father had any information about it, if he had access to Laura's cell phone. He didn't remember reading about it in the archives, but he had to admit he had barely read it well enough.

"The symbol has something to do with werewolves, doesn't it? Does it have any meaning?"

Derek stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

"Yeah, it means revenge. But how do you know it has something to do with werewolves? It could mean anything."

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"First that the person who sent it to her wanted her to come at any cost, she wouldn't send a picture with a symbol that could be to anyone. The person who sent it wanted to make it clear that she knew where she was getting into."

"That she knew who she was talking to," Derek added.

"Second, for God's sake, you're werewolves, that in itself is dramatic, it is not too hard to guess."

Derek rolled his eyes, not resisting.

"Ok, we know someone sent a photo, giving her tips for coming here, but what for? Hale's revenge? My mother always had good relations with everyone, we never did anything to anyone, there's no reason to want revenge"

"I don't know about that part, but the whole story doesn't make sense. If anyone wanted revenge, why start with the strongest? The bigger the pack, the stronger the alpha, so why not go after your uncle first? Killing him was going to make you both weaker and the fact alone would make you both come to town "

Derek looked taken back at stiles words.

"How do you know about my uncle?" The question was asked quietly, but the anger and suspicion could be felt nonetheless. Stiles could already see Derek threateningly invading his personal space, ready to attack first and ask questions later, so he was quick to explain:

"Hey, hey big guy, calm down. I don't want to sound insensitive and I know it's not a really cool topic for you, but it's not like it's a secret the fact that your uncle was interned and you went to New York. For God's sake, this is a small town, people talk, and besides, Scott's mom is a nurse, I remember one day when I was a kid and I was walking around I saw him at a glance and I asked her what he had. She said he was in a coma "

For a second Derek's expression turned sore, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone and he was back to his grumpy expression.

Stiles took a deep breath before continuing.

"If he wanted revenge on the Hale, why not attack the easiest target first?”

"I don't know. Maybe to shake our head? Maybe this is a game. To get stronger before trying to attack me? Stealing the power of alpha?”

Stiles had completely forgotten where they were and who was present until the vet cleared his throat, catching their attention.

"Since you no longer need my help, I think you can see yourselves out."

Stiles was holding Derek with one hand on his defined breastplate even before he had started to move. Of course he couldn't hold Derek even if he didn't have the werewolf superpowers, but the fact that he was even trying was enough to hold Derek a little.

Scott stared wide-eyed, seeming to want to protect the Dr. but unsure if he should interfere.

"Back off, dude," Stiles said and surprisingly, Derek obeyed.

"Don't call me dude" the victory is short.

"Don't go attacking someone else's vets. This is the only vet clinic in town, where do you think my dad would take the police dogs if the vet was attacked by a werewolf?"

Derek rolled his eyes once more, which would probably become an extremely common gesture in their communication.

Dr. Deaton cleared his throat again, raising his eyebrows at both of them.

Stiles just sighed and then looked at Scott.

"Don't go to Lydia's party! It's not safe. Not for you, not for the others!"

And then he turned and left without answering Scott's calls. But he took all the care of the world when it came to entering the camaro, knowing that he would be killed in two seconds if he didn't.

"Ok" started Stiles again after the two of them were silent for a few minutes while driving back to the hale house "still doesn't make sense, even if he wanted to play with your head, he would have the same result with your uncle, only more easily, why face an alpha directly when you can weaken it first? "

Derek sighed in frustration, running a hand nervously over his face.

"I don't know! Maybe he was already sure he was going to win. Or he would rather hit an alpha instead of having to bring suspicion among humans. Only Laura and I visited Peter and it's like you said, people talk, it would become gossip "

It made sense, Stiles thought, but something still seemed wrong, as if it didn't fit. But seeing Derek's expression, he knew he had been able to handle it enough for the day, not to mention all the grief and having a teenager getting into his business.

Stiles wasn't stupid, he knew that in Derek's mind he was just one more weight, one more person to take care of, trying to keep an alpha from killing him. He knew he was putting unwanted pressure on his shoulders. But Stiles also knew that Derek had no one to lean on, and when you try to do something of that magnitude alone, the result is usually shitty.

So Stiles was going to be persistent. He knew Derek would keep trying to push him away, but he also knew that Derek couldn't handle Scott and the alpha on his own, and Scott couldn't handle Derek in general.

In the silence of the Camaro, they both thought, trying unsuccessfully to understand this unfounded situation. The silence was broken only when they arrived at the Hale house.

"Ok," Derek began, turning to Stiles "our priority now will have to be Scott before he hurts anyone. I know you know something about werewolves from what you researched on the internet, but a lot of it is just folklore, even if some things are true, like the full moon "

"That's tomorrow and he'll be at Lydia's party."

Derek continued as if Stiles hadn't interrupted him.

"We have to try as hard as we can to make sure that doesn't happen, but if he doesn't listen we still need a plan B."

"Which means that if he goes to the party, we need to take him out of there as fast as possible and by we, I mean me." Stiles completed, exasperated "Ok, you already made your point clear this morning about that part of the plan, the problem is how am I going to get him out if he starts to wolf out."

Derek didn't even bother to roll his eyes at the way Stiles referred to Scott losing control.

"We'll have to lure him away. I already have an idea of how to do that, but first, we need to hope he's strong enough not to lose full control within the party."

"Okay, so you can start explaining, big guy, because I have to go home before my dad arrives."

When Stiles was going home his phone beeped, by the time Scott's shift was supposed to be over, which meant he was texting like crazy.

Stiles answered half concentrated on the road, half on his cell phone, that they needed to talk in person, but Scott said he could not go until the next day before the party.

Stiles considered sending several messages about how urgent this was, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears and he was not patient enough to answer the thousands of questions the boy was sending.

"Why were you with Derek?"  
"What were you talking about?"  
"What is an alpha?"  
"Who is Laura? Is the dead body?"

Stiles just said he would explain later and that Scott was supposed to do what Derek told him to.

"Why?" was the message Scott sent him back.

"Because Derek knows better." was what Stiles answered while taking advantage of a red traffic light.

Scott did not respond after that, although Stiles had seen the writing "typing" appearing and disappearing from time to time, as if Scott was mulling over what to write but rethinking and giving up.

After a while, the word "typing" stopped appearing.


	3. I Think it depends

The next day started better somehow, probably because he was getting used to the idea that Scott was no longer a piece of himself, but just a friend.

Stiles didn't feel the weight of this conclusion so strongly, it hurt, but he had more to worry about. Accepting that Scott wasn't as loyal to Stiles as Stiles was to him was hard, but once the idea got into Stiles's mind it was easier to handle things.

That didn't mean the day wasn't horrible, because it was horrible. It just meant that he didn't have to deal with everything that was happening at the same time that he was brooding over Scott's friendship in the background. Or the lack of it in this case.

Breakfast was lonely, Stiles's father has once again been on a double shift thanks to the unresolved body case found in the woods.

His father's presence was never strong in the house, Stiles believed that this was probably why he did not drink again, keeping himself as much as possible at work. But this was the first time in a long time that Stiles had spent so much time alone.

Scott's lack of presence made his loneliness worse, but Stiles didn't want to go that way. Scott might not have the best thinking in the world, but if Stiles didn't have other friends to kill time with, then it was his fault, not Scott's.

Stiles should have known better, having a single friend throughout childhood should have been indicative of an unhealthy relationship.

Stiles should have gone out more, talked more, made more friends. He was very focused on the fictional world he'd created in his head where he and Scott were the only pieces that didn't even stop to wonder what he would do if Scott didn't want to be part of it.

Stiles had always dreamed of marrying Lydia Martin, remembered spending hours talking to Scott about his plans, what their house would be like, their children, their dogs. But despite everything he said, Stiles always knew it would never happen and Scott never talked about girls in the first place, so he just assumed it would always be them and their friendship.

Stiles never wondered what would happen if Scott got himself a girlfriend.

But he should have.

The day at school was monotonous, to say the least, which brought a bad feeling to Stiles, who wondered why the alpha was taking so long to make his first move.

Thanks to the free time that Stiles's lack of friends brought, his homework was all done, the books he was supposed to read were read in time, and the new activities coming would probably go the same way.

Scott seemed to be having trouble with his work, but Stiles didn't comment.

The two went into a strange state during the day, not really fighting, but not really knowing how to communicate, having many things to say, but aware that it was not the time and the place.

The feelings were confused, guilt, anger, directed to all sides.

Accepting the situation made it easier to deal with, made it more real, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt to see his friend's lost and confused look.

Stiles sometimes wanted to blame Allison, blame Scott, but in reality, he knew that wasn't something to blame.

First, they didn't even understand what they were doing, so even if they did, it wasn't as if they were wrong.

Stiles had seen more in that friendship than it really existed, it was only his fault. He couldn't blame Scott for wanting to spend time with his girlfriend.

So aware of all this, Stiles just tried to handle the situation as best he could.

He let Scott talk about how perfect Allison was and how he intended to go to Lydia's party with her. It was easy to see that the boy was trying to convince Stiles not to complain about it, but a stern look at him and he changed the subject.

The lunch with Boyd was a little less weird than the day before, and Stiles assumed that over time the whole situation would probably cease to be weird.

"Looks like Scott is really going to be with the new girl and as a member of the team," began Boyd, his expression indecipherable.

"Yeah, it seems so," Stiles replied, eating his sandwich as he glanced at the table Scott was sitting at.

"And you don't mind that?" What Boyd was doing was clear, but Stiles thought his goal was probably not to be discreet in the first place.

"I think it depends," Stiles began, deciding to be sincere and sincerely needing someone to talk to, the only person he actually communicated with in the last few days was Derek, and his communication consisted mostly of looking at Stiles with a scowl, so it could be said that Stiles, being the communicative person that he was, was starting to get cranky and in urgent need of a friendly shoulder, even if this was Boyd, the guy who mostly looked at him with a look very similar to what Derek used to. "The problem is not really that he dates the new girl, but the fact that he exchanges me for her whenever he has a chance, and about playing, well, I stopped liking lacrosse a long time ago, so I don't really know what to think about it."

Boyd bit a bite of his own sandwich before continuing.

"Why do you play then? And about him switching you, well, I think that's what always happens, don't you? Whenever someone gets a girlfriend or boyfriend, they forget their friends."

Boyd didn't seem to speak from experience.

"Do you see Jackson completely ignoring Danny because of Lydia?" Stiles asked back, smiling as Boyd shook his head. "My point. And about the game, it's hard to explain, most of the time I spend in training the other players are hurting me, when there's a game I am I don't know why it really doesn't come out so far, it's hard to say, maybe I was expecting some magic to fall on me so I would get really good and play but after a while, it just turned into something that I endure and keep on enduring." This was the first time Stiles had voiced his conflicting feelings to anyone, which was odd, especially considering that he barely knew Boyd and that the person he usually used to confide on was Scott.

Boyd seemed to consider what he heard.

"Are you leaving the team then? Now that you and Scott are no longer attached to the hip?

Stiles let out a blown laugh at the comment.

"What?" Said Boyd, smiling sideways "It's not like you're very discreet, running around and getting in trouble, but never alone."

"I don't know," Stiles answered truthfully, smiling crookedly at Boyd back "Wouldn't that sound too weird? Right after Scott comes in and gets a good performance I leave? It seems like I can't handle the fact that my friend is good and I am not".

"You don't look like someone who cares about what others say," Boyd replied, to Stiles's surprise there was no malice in his voice.

The rest of the day after that went smoothly and talking to Boyd helped in some way. Knowing he could have a normal conversation with someone other than a werewolf or his father was comforting.

Lacrosse training was brutal, as usual. The injuries Scott had inflicted on him that were not yet completely healed protested against the brute force of the team, who seemed to love the idea of using Stilinski as a punching bag as often as possible.

At home, while Scott was not home from his work shift, Stiles advanced his chores while eating chips. Everything hurt, but it's not like you're not used to it.

After he finished, he did one more research on lycanthropy, noting points he would ask Derek later when the opportunity comes. After all, it was hard to know what was folklore and what was real.

His cell phone had been silent for most of the day, just beeping with a message from his father and a quick conversation with Derek, where they arranged their plans, plan a, plan b, and plan c. Stiles wanted to put some more options, but Derek cut him off with a hard answer, so Stiles let it go.

In the silence of his room, making notes about werewolves, Stiles decided he would have to get Boyd's number. He needed someone to communicate with who didn't answer him with monosyllables and didn't know how to use emojis.

Later in the day when Scott entered his room without bothering to announce his entry, nearly killing Stiles from the heart was when he realized that a calm day would result in a long night.

The conversation itself was not very long, but Stiles was clear:

"Scott, you can't go to the party! Don't you understand? It's a full moon night, which means you're prone to losing control and hurting someone. Do you know what happens on the field? When I have to keep bringing you to reality? That's it, only worse, not only that as anything that increases your heart rate can make you aggressive and bloodthirsty."

"Stiles, I'll be fine. Derek goes through full moons all the time, why would I be any different?"

"Because you just got bitten! Derek has control over the change, you don't. Now call Allison and cancel! You'll hurt her, can't you see?"

It brought Scott back to reality for a few seconds. When the boy got his cell phone Stiles was ready to sigh with relief, thinking he had won that conversation. But as fast as lucidity came it was gone, and soon Scott was refusing again, talking about how his chance with Allison was and how nothing was going to happen, how he would stay in control and everything would be all right.

Stiles was fed up and decided to take over the situation, moving toward Scott's cell phone.

"If you won't do it, I will"

"What? No!"

And suddenly, the signs of the moon affecting Scott finally appear as he grabs Stiles down his arm, a sharp twinge of pain spreads over his arm where his fingers squeeze inhumanly, pinning him against the wall, and brought his fist to punch him in the face.

Something broke inside of Stiles.

Scott, realizing what he was doing sinks into Stiles's chair, embarrassed and looking like a stray puppy, but Stiles couldn't feel sensitized, not at that moment.

Scott mumbles an apology and leaves.

When Stiles is sure the boy is far enough away, he takes his trembling fingers to where he radiated pain in his arm, seeing blood staining his fingers.

Claws.

With his fingers still stained with blood and feeling his whole body shaking with the shock of having his best friend threatening him as he did, Stiles sends a message to Derek, trying to make him look curious and not ultra-desperate.

"Hey dude. Do you know if a werewolf scratches someone he can transform that person?"

When Derek instead of answering asked where Stiles was the boy almost had a syncopation, terror rising in his gut.

Stiles took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to stay calm, desperately trying to keep the panic attack drifting, aware that he had to deal with this situation as soon as possible or Scott would do some shit and have no one to stop him.

Trying not to panic, Stiles didn't answer Derek, just placed his cell phone on the bed and went to the bathroom, taking off his bloody flannel, aware that he would have to find a discreet way to dispose it away, then lifted the sleeve of the dark blouse.

With the absurd amount of blood that trickled down, it was hard to analyze the size of the wound in the mirror, but as far as Stiles could see the cuts were not wide. That would be a good point if they weren't extremely deep. Stiles could feel where they had pierced, the absurd pain, but even if he could not see it, the amount of blood that was oozing out would be an indication.

Carefully he pressed his flannel shirt to the bruise, trying to stop the bleeding as he considered the next steps, drops and more drops of blood lathering the floor. God, He'd have to clean this up before going to the party.

With a sigh and practically using his elbows, Stiles began looking for his first aid box, a necessity when he is hyperactive and clumsy, apart from all lacrosse injuries.

God, lacrosse, after that Stiles would give up lacrosse. This is it, officially.

He found the box at the bottom of the counter, since Stiles usually didn't usually take care of his own injuries and just let them go on their own.

He opened it with the hand of his injured arm as his good hand was holding his shirt. With a certain carelessness, he began to remove the gauze and utensils from there, thanking them all for being well packed or soon soaked in blood, although the box itself was already a snot.

Luckily, it was easy to see that the outpouring of blood was beginning to diminish.

A large hand appeared on his shoulder, pressing, causing Stiles's heart to go a thousand beats a minute, almost having a heart attack.

He didn't know who should be waiting, your dad? The alpha? Scott? Stiles didn't know exactly, but as soon as he saw bright blue eyes something in his chest flushed with relief.

"Please tell me I'm not going to be a werewolf. Superpowers are cool and all, but we haven't even managed to deal with Scott yet."

"Betas can't transform other people," Derek said, taking his hand from the bruise and removing the flannel, the wound was practically stagnant.

"Seriously?"  
"Yeah, you should have told me it was Scott who hurt you, I thought that the alpha had found you."

Stiles did not respond, only obeyed Derek's orders as he took the first-aid kit out of his hand and had him sit on his bedroom bed.

Already calmer, now without the imminent danger of a werewolf transformation, Stiles watched the bloody mess on the floor, wondering how he would have to clean it before leaving to save Scott's ass. Scott, the one who pierced his arm with his claws.

"You will need stitches on these cuts," Derek declared after taking everything he thought necessary and analyzing the wound, which was no longer spilling so much blood.

"Let me guess," Stiles muttered, looking at the needle that Derek was taking.

Derek looked at him with an expression that said he was supposed to shut up, but he wasn't as angry as before.

With a sigh, Derek began.

Stiles closed his eyes, waiting for the pain that didn't come. It was a strange sensation, as if he was floating, but at the same time was aware of everything that was in contact with his body.

He was ready to question Derek if he was sure about betas not transforming people, but when he looked at him he noticed dark veins in his arms, rising from his hand and past his wrist.

"Werewolf mojo, huh?"

Derek snorted but didn't answer.

After they finished bandaging the wound, Derek withdrew his hand from Stiles’ arm, making the pain return, but much less so.

He raised an eyebrow at Derek, questioning.

“It is impossible to remove all the pain, but I took out as much as I could. However, it should get back with all strength in a few hours. The cut is not long, but it is very deep, you have to take care of it or you will get infected.”

Stiles sighed, but just nodded.

It is obvious that he wanted to question Derek about this and the various secrets of werewolves, but this was not the time.

“Ok, Plan A failed, we have to go with Plan B,” Derek exhaled, his expression closing and his arms crossing over his chest “Let’s get ready for the party then sour wolf”

Derek snarled, but it was clear that there was not as much heat in this as in the previous days.

Stiles then looked at the mess he had made and sighed again.

“First, let’s clean up this mess”

Derek didn’t help while he cleaned up blood mess, he just stood there watching Stiles do the heavy lifting with the expression of someone who had just eaten a sour lemon. The arms never uncrossed.

The room looked considerably more like a murder scene than the result of a few holes in his arm, but all the movement around the house with blood dripping on his arm helped with the result.

His dad being a police officer, Stiles had to do a thorough cleaning, not that his father cared much about the mess, the house was always clean, but not exactly the cleanest house ever, and Stiles always rolled up to do the laundry, letting the clothes in the basket, but for this kind of stuff “this kind of stuff” being any sign of a crime scene, his dad had good eyes, so all the bloody clothes and cloths used to clean the scene were thrown away and the floor from Stiles’ bathroom and the bedroom have never been cleaner, the smell of disinfectant making his nose sting.

After everything was clean and back in place Stiles took a quick shower and left the bathroom already dressed because he knew that Derek was not going to leave his stoic position in the middle of the room, frowning in full force, looking ready to kill someone.

Stiles just hoped that someone was not Scott.

They went to the party in different cars but stayed together there. If anybody asked, they had already planned a story to tell.

They two just stayed quiet, observing Scott and Allison and trying not to draw attention to themselves - what was hard, since Derek by itself draw a lot of attention- and ignoring the confused and guilty puppy eyes his friend sent to do them while waiting for something to happen.

Stiles doesn’t really know for sure what happened, but when he saw it, Scott was running into the bathroom and Derek and he was moving, ready to put their plan into practice.

It was easier than Stiles had imagined, convincing Alisson that Scott had a health problem, but that because he didn’t want to miss his chance with Alisson, he forced himself to go to the party anyway, but that Derek, a friend of Stiles’ who was coincidentally in town and took the opportunity to go out with an old friend at a party, would take him home so he could rest, he was just ashamed of having to be so weak in front of the girl he liked and with some problems to breathe, and so he hid in the bathroom.

Alisson’s eyes shone with innuendo and Stiles was very clear in saying that maybe she should call him tomorrow because he would be very embarrassed.

Knowing Scott, he would think he would have screwed up and then he would start blaming Stiles and he was honestly out of patience for his friend.  
Convincing the girl to get a ride home was easy. Getting her jacket was a little harder, but Stiles succeeded and then did what Derek instructed, using the jacket to lure Scott with the scent of Alisson toward the preserves.

Stiles noted somewhere in his mind that the werewolves were WELL, WELL better than he had suspected.

When he finally found Derek where they had combined in the middle of the forest preserve, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Derek’s eyes shone in the darkness in a blue shade, his molars were pointed, coming out of his mouth and resting in his lower lips and a low, grotesque sound came out of his chest.

His head was half turned, as if listening to something, and his eyes focused on Stiles’s.

Slowly, he placed an index finger over his own lips, making a sign of silence and Stiles almost stopped in place, his heart racing and a thousand and one things went through his head at that moment.  
The whole scene with fangs and silence and eyes shining was quite dark, enough to make Stiles doubt his judgment for a thousandth of a second by following this complete stranger in the middle of the forest.

But the doubt only lasted this a millisecond.

Stiles knew that Derek was not the enemy, first because he made no sense, and if there was anything his father had taught him in his life, it was to believe the evidence. Analyze, study, understand what the clues are telling you.

The second thing he had learned was something his mother taught him: believe in your intuition, sometimes it will take you through confusing ways, but it is always right.

And now, both his intuition and the evidence, everything said that Derek was not the bad guy.

So Stiles did the only thing he could, started to walk more slowly and more carefully, trying to be quieter while approaching the older one, he just frowned more while listening to something that Stiles couldn’t.

When Stiles was close enough to the eldest he took him by the arm and started to guide him through the preserves, but his expression was worse than it usually is, the fangs and the bright eyes still there.

“What’s it?”

“Hunters”  
Stiles’ heart did a strange thing, not knowing whether to beat faster or stop.

“What?”

Derek had already talked about hunters a few times, he never went into it, but it was enough for Stiles to imagine for himself.

“They must know that he is a new werewolf if they are making such a noise. Or they must think that he is in a feral state, too desperate to hear their noise, which is still true” He spoke between his teeth, seeming more and more to lose his temper, but different from what he imagined, he did not squeeze Stiles’ arms.

When Derek found the point he wanted, he took the Alisson sweater from Stiles’ hands and hung it on a tree, starting to move away from that point and taking a deep breath. Stiles watched in amazement as his fangs flinched and his bright eyes returned to their natural color.

“That was not in our plans,” murmured Stiles, starting to get desperate.

Derek growled low, but Stiles didn’t know if it was a threat to Stiles, asking him to be quiet if that was his way of agreeing or simply his way of declaring how the unexpected situation irritated him.

He continued to pull Stile away when he thought it was good he stopped and started talking, quietly:

“There’s nothing we can do now” Stiles knew, Scott has already lost control and stopping him physically will only bring more attention from the hunters and make them both more vulnerable to them “I will try to help him because we have an agreement ... “

Stiles and Derek look at each other for a few seconds and somehow, Stiles knew what he would have to do.

“Okay, I’m going to stay out of the way, I’m going to Hale House, meet me there and bring that jerk”

Derek snarled, once again Stiles couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t like taking orders, if he was simply irritated by Stiles’ presence or if it was his way of agreeing that Scott was a jerk.

Maybe it was a little bit of everything.

Stiles, however, forgot one fact: He hated to wait.

His hyperactivity didn't help and the only thing he could do at the moment was to mutter to himself how rude Derek was, how much of an idiot Scott and how Stiles needed to make new friends as soon as possible or he was going to have a heart attack.

Walking around and swinging in place, Stiles' mind wandered to the different possibilities for the outcome of Derek and Scott's situation, it wasn't even five minutes that Stiles was alone, but his mind was his worst enemy, so it's easy to see that most of the outcomes he imagined were not good.

So Stiles tried to concentrate on imagining the scolding that was going to give Scott, it was the only thing that managed to distract Stiles at the moment.  
When he was going to do almost 20 minutes of Stiles murmuring to himself he was ready to go outside and jump on someone's head, his mind taking dangerous directions, a reaction to concern for the two idiots who did not return, however, as if they were feeling his thoughts, the door was thrown open with a loud thud and Scott flew in through the door, crashing to the floor and groaning.

Standing at the door with shining eyes was a homicidal-looking Derek, but nothing Stiles hadn't seen, which obviously didn't stop the hairs on Stiles' arms from standing on end.

It took him a while to realize that Derek had actually thrown Scott out the door, but when he realized he felt a hint of satisfaction. Just a little.

Derek said nothing, just crossed his arms over his chest and stood at the door, snarling, eyes shining, some kind of supernatural Adonis, an Adonis with a lot of rage, but still an Adonis.

Scott sat on the floor as he had been thrown, grunting low, clearly still having trouble controlling the moon's effect on him but somehow Derek's presence there seemed to keep him in control, probably his instincts recognized who was stronger and went to the preservation side, remaining quiet. His arm was bleeding, but he already seemed to be healing.

"Ok, you idiot, be quiet" Stiles murmured as he passed him, he growled low, almost like a dog ready to attack and Stiles wondered if he was going to become werewolf food, but then Derek growled too, his growl was different, it was lower, but it seemed to reverberate all over his chest, more threatening. Scott stopped what he was doing.

"Ok" Stiles continued, approaching Derek, who did not even move from his position "I imagine that everything I tell him will now be useless?" Stiles managed to ask a question and a statement at the same time. Wow.

Derek said nothing, just looked at Stiles with his "you're an annoying bugger I want to step on with my boots" face, which Stiles took as a yes.

"So what do we do?"

Derek looked at Stiles and sighed.

"We wait"

Stiles had already warned his father that he would not sleep at home and he was taking a night shift and would probably only come home in the middle of the night, so Stiles just sat against the doorframe next to Derek, who remained in his position.

Scott remained partially transformed and looked around as if looking for a way out. Stiles felt sad for his friend, but at the same time, he also felt angry, because everything would be avoided if he listened to others.

But he pretended to be blind and deaf and chose to do just what he wanted, putting the lives of others in danger.

The night was soon, the wolf in Scott remained repressed only for a few minutes and he soon tried to move forward either in Stiles or Derek, but Derek always attacked him back, threw him away or pushed him to the ground, trapping him until he whimpered. and be quiet, but he never regained full consciousness, all that was his werewolf instincts talking, recognizing Derek as someone stronger.

Stiles wanted to question Derek about this, see if his assumptions were right, but he knew that now was not a good time.

Sometime during the night, while Scott was quiet, Derek sat beside him, leaning against the other doorframe.

"Will it always be like this?"

Derek took so long that Stiles didn't think he would respond. But he did, in the end.

"Only if he wants to, if he hears me, no"

His voice was low and soft in the darkness of the house, the moon being the only source of illumination made it difficult to see his face clearly, but his eyes continued to shine, a clear sign that even though he was talking, he was paying attention to Scott.

Stiles nodded but said nothing, just looking at his friend, partially transformed, crouched in the middle of the house.

It was a rather deplorable sight, like that of a cornered puppy, unaware of itself, and Stiles wished he hadn't gone after a dead body in the middle of the night.

But as soon as that desire came quickly, it disappeared.

His father would be in those jungles with or without Stiles and that alone was enough to know that he needed this information, he didn't know what to do with it, but he would find out.

And other than that, who would help Derek if it weren't for Stiles?

Not that they were very close, in fact, it was pretty obvious that Derek couldn't stand him, but he still let Stiles stay close, either out of pity or because he needed to.

Derek might not be the nicest person in the world, but he certainly didn’t deserve to go through what he was going through, almost all of his family was burned alive, Stiles suspected it was hunters, his uncle was catatonic in a hospital and the only one the family he had left was brutally killed by some kind of evil alpha.

Even if they weren't close, even if Derek hated him, Stiles can't imagine making a different choice, because that would mean turning his back on Derek, the guy who couldn't even mourn his own sister because the world wouldn't let him.

Okay, maybe he would change some things, maybe he would be alone and then Scott wouldn't have to go through this, maybe he would have bitten, or else he would just have found his father and maybe he would never find the beast, which went against all idea of not changing what happened.

Nonsense.

"It's not your fault," Derek said after a few minutes of silence and Stiles was taken aback.

"What?"

"I heard what he said that day" He explained "It's not your fault"

Stiles stared at Derek for a few seconds, not knowing how to respond, surprised.

"There was no way you could know there was a werewolf on the loose and if he really didn't want to go with you, he just had to say no" Stiles looked Derek in the eye "It's not your fault"

Unfortunately, before Stiles could think of something clever to say, or at least a "thank you", Scott decided to move forward on Derk, but in two seconds Derek was already holding him down.

After that, no one else brought it up.


End file.
